She. I say not nay, but that all day He. That woman's faith is, as who saith, But nevertheless, right good witnèss Would not depart; for in her heart She loved but him alone. So that ye me answere: Wherefore all ye that present be, I pray you, give an ear. I am the Knight. I come by night, Saying, Alas! thus standeth the case, She. And I your will for to fulfil Trusting to show, in wordes few, To their own shame-women to blame. in fere] in company together. Therefore to you I answer now, All women to excuse Mine own heart dear, with you what cheer? For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. He. It standeth so: a deed is do A shameful death, I trow; Or else to flee. The t' one must be. And take me to my bow. Wherefore adieu, mine own heart true! For I must to the green-wood go, She. O Lord, what is this worldis bliss, Why say ye so? whither will ye go? All my welfare to sorrow and care Should change, if ye were gone: rede I can] counsel I know. He. I can believe it shall you grieve, Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take Why should ye ought? for, to make thought, Your labour were in vain. And thus I do; and pray you to, As hartely as I can: For I must to the green-wood go, She. Now, sith that ye have showed to me I shall be plain to you again, Like as ye shall me find. I will not live behind. Shall never be said the Nut-brown Maid Was to her love unkind. Make you readỳ, for so am I, Although it were anone: He. Yet I you rede to take good heed That ye be gone away Your wanton will for to fulfil, And that ye might for your delight Rather than ye should thus for me Yet would I to the green-wood go, She. Though it be sung of old and young Theirs be the charge that speak so large To part with you the same: He. I counsel you, Remember how Nothing to doubt, but to run out For ye must there in your hand bear And as a thief thus must you live Ever in dread and awe; Whereby to you great harm might grow: Yet had I liever than That I had to the green-wood go, She. I think not nay but as ye say; He. But love may make me for your sake, To come on foot, to hunt and shoot, May have, I ask no more. From which to part it maketh my heart As cold as any stone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. For an outlaw this is the law, Without pitie, hangèd to be, For fear would draw behind. Were in your counsel than: She. Right well know ye that women be No womanhede it is, indeed, To be bold as a knight: Yet in such fear if that ye were |